All the blood drained from my face. Thankfully, I wasn't holding the cup. The only thing that clattered to the ground was the spoon. The brown paste spilt onto the floor, causing a mess on it.
I whirled around to face him, my heart in my chest and my throat dry. There was this sense of déjà vu I got. It reminded me of the night I met Uncle Dimi, but I doubt Gervais would be as accommodating as his uncle.
“Rensa,” he gasped, his eyes slowly coming up to meet my gaze.
It was then I noticed how odd he stood. Sweat dribbled down his face as he clutched tightly to the door. His stance reminded me of the night his rut got triggered.
“Are you okay?” I closed the distance between us, disregarding the paste on the floor. I could tell what was going on because of his fast breathing.
“No, I
